Coming Out of His Shell

In case any of you were wondering, I am not shy. I just had to throw that out there to make sure we are all on the same page. If there are people around me for any length of time (save it the homeless on public transportation) there is a high likelihood I am going to engage in conversation. More often than not, this conversation will also be initiated by yours truly.

The thing I love about taking online classes is that I don't have to leave home and I can "go to class" in my jammies and braless, if I so desire. However, I will admit, the nice thing about going to class on campus is that I get to associate with my fellow classmates.

In a few of my classes I happen to sit by the shiest kid in there. Actually, come to think of it, in ALL of my on-campus classes, I sit next to the shy kid. Part of me wonders if this is coincidence, or if somehow I attract shy people. Or perhaps the shy people attract me? Who knows. Anywhoo...

The kid in one of my classes is finally coming out of his shell a little, nay a lot. He is quirky and funny once you get to know him. But mostly, he sits quietly, trying to stay oblivious. Well, therein dear readers lies the first problem. Anyone who has any sort of intention whatsoever of remaining unnoticed or invisible amongst a group of peers will do well not to sit by me. Let it be known that I will probably instigate a plethora of conversations over time. And while I maintain that much of my colloquy is insightful and perhaps even witty and clever, there are indeed those times it is pure twaddle, nonetheless humorous just the same.

So, back to the metamorphosis of the shy guy... the other night, he made a funny. He turned slightly red, and yet I could tell by the look on his face that he was somewhat pleased with himself. His mood was upbeat the rest of the night too.

Being nervous in a group isn't often something I encounter. And having funny thoughts and not feeling like I can share them is also a concept very foreign to me. It wasn't leaps and bounds, what he did. But I could tell for him, it was something.

So now what? Well, we are sort of the duo that makes fun of the professor from the back of the class. I feel like we have engaged in this mentorship of sorts. Who knows? I could just be the sensei that helps to mold our future president! Ok, maybe not. Probably not. But, I can't help feel like my gregarious behavior is rubbing off on him just a little.

His future wife will thank me one day. And that, is reward enough. :)

When Bad Things Happen...

Sometimes when bad things happen, I let it roll off my back. Or, I might cry~~ but just a bit. But then, if it's something out of my control, I try to ignore it... push it to the back of my mind.

Sometimes that works.

But sometimes... Sometimes, that bad thing gets compounded by busyness, stress, lack of sleep or other bad things.

And then... it all comes to a head. I can tell when I am on the "verge", as I call it. I can feel it brewing and I know that I am headed for more than a little cry; a monumental cry.

And the flood gates open and the tears flow and it seems like nothing is going to go my way. That "storm" usually lasts about an hour...or two...or maybe even three.

And as with everything else, there is that one person who can make it all better. Not that they can take away the bad thing or fix what's broken. But for some reason, just talking to them or hearing their voice makes everything FEEL like it will be better.

Maybe for you that one person is the same person each time. Or maybe it's that one person that is just the right person for that particular time. Either way, it works. That voice is the voice we can find comfort in. And that is the voice that sometimes helps us see clearly, or maybe just lends a listening ear. It can be a therapist, a coworker, a family member, a friend, a lover... Whomever it is, it is the one voice we need to hear in that moment to help soothe us. And they don't even have to say anything in particular; just being with them or talking to them is enough.

I am grateful and blessed that when bad things happen I have that voice...the voice that makes everything okay.

Prolix Parsings of the Perplexing English Language!

I don't take credit for this - and have received it several times through email circulation. As a grammarian, I still enjoy it. Hope you do to. If nothing else, maybe it will remind you to cut some slack to those around us that are still trying to learn the English Language...

By the way, if you ever do want to see how other cultures interpret some of our language you'll have to check out http://www.engrish.com/
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You think English is easy???

1) The bandage was wound around the wound.
2) The farm was used to produce produce .
3) The dump was so full that it had to refuse more refuse .
4) We must polish the Polish furniture.
5) He could lead if he would get the lead out.
6) The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert.
7) Since there is no time like the present , he thought it was time to present the present .
8) A bass was painted on the head of the bass drum.
9) When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes.
10) I did not object to the object.
11) The insurance was invalid for the invalid.
12) There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row .
13) They were too close to the door to close it.
14) The buck does funny things when the does are present.
15) A seamstress and a sewer fell down into a sewer line.
16) To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow.
17) The wind was too strong to wind the sail.
18) Upon seeing the tear in the painting I shed a tear.
19) I had to subject the subject to a series of tests.
20) How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend?

Let's face it - English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant, nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins weren't invented in England nor French fries in France . Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads, which aren't sweet, are meat.

We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig. And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing, grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham? If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn't the plural of booth, beeth?

One goose, 2 geese. So one moose, 2 meese? One index, 2 indices? Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it? If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?

Sometimes I think all the English speakers should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane. In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell?

How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites? You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out and in which, an alarm goes off by going on.

English was invented by people, not computers, and it reflects the creativity of the human race, which, of course, is not a race at all. That is why, when the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible. By the way - Why doesn't 'Buick' rhyme with 'quick' ?

You lovers of the English language might enjoy this . There is a two-letter word that perhaps has more meanings than any other two-letter word, and that is 'UP'. It's easy to understand UP , meaning toward the sky or at the top of the list, but when we awaken in the morning, why do we wake UP ? At a meeting, why does a topic come UP ? Why do we speak UP and why are the officers UP for election and why is it UP to the secretary to write UP a report ? We call UP our friends. And we use it to brighten UP a room, polish UP the silver; we warm UP the leftovers and clean UP the kitchen. We lock UP the house and some guys fix UP the old car. At other times the little word has real special meaning. People stir UP trouble, line UP for tickets, work UP an appetite, and think UP excuses. To be dressed is one thing, but to be dressed UP is special . And this UP is confusing: A drain must be opened UP because it is stopped UP . We open UP a store in the morning but we close it UP at night. We seem to be pretty mixed UP about UP! To be knowledgeable about the proper uses of UP , look the word UP in the dictionary. In a desk-sized dictionary, it takes UP almost 1/4th of the page and can add UP to about thirty definitions. If you are UP to it, you might try building UP a list of the many ways UP is used. It will take UP a lot of your time, but if you don't give UP , you may wind UP with a hundred or more. When it threatens to rain, we say it is clouding UP. When the sun comes out we say it is clearing UP. When it rains, it wets the earth and often messes things UP. When it doesn't rain for awhile, things dry UP. One could go on and on, but I'll wrap it UP, for now my time is UP, so.........it is time to shut UP!

What Happens at Girls' Camp, Stays at Girls' Camp

So, MrBusDr, along with a few others, wanted to know why i didn't post about Girls' Camp on my Blog. Well, I had to speak in church that Sunday, and give somewhat of a "report" on the things we did up at Camp. I didn't initially write about camp here, because i had already written a talk on it, and didn't want to keep repeating myself. However, I finally came to the realization that i could just post my talk, and then all will be happy...so here goes.

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Woods Cross 2nd Ward Girls’ Camp
Given by Emma Panti
Sunday, June 29, 2008

I have just spent a week with the young women up at Girl’s Camp. These are amazing young women. I have a special place in my heart for the young women of our ward. It is hard for me to speak about them without getting emotional.

First of all, we had a lot of fun this week. Here are just a few of the top phrases that were overheard:
“She’s just like a bucket, except she can talk.”
“Princesses. Cannibals. Touché.”
“The Gopher is Dead and buried.”
“It’s a double-barreled-slingshot.” And the favorite – courtesy of the Varsity Scouts -
“Punish the Toilet”

We also played a lot of games. We had an Amazing Relay Race, a balloon stomp, Marshmallow Wars – which, by the way, Sister Larson is not a fan of - Gorilla, Phase 10, and made-up games such as Inside-Outside, and Bob.

We went swimming at the reservoir. We had free time and the girls did crafts. We even had some harmless pranks – You’ll have to ask Sister Redd about the fish heads in her sleeping bag. And you’ll have to ask Sister Larson about stealing everybody’s pillows – though she claims she was framed. Some of the girls & I sat around during free time and when we saw Alia Plat coming we decided to speak in a pretend made-up language to throw her off when she came and sat down. However she did a pretty good job of figuring some of the words. I guess we forgot to take into account that her brother Easton writes new languages all the time at home, so she is used to that. Let’s see, we sang songs around the camp fire. We danced. We stayed up late telling funny stories. A few of us enjoyed off-roading with Sister Redd while Sister Cummings screamed like a big baby on a runaway carnival ride.

I was able to teach the girls how to heard cattle up at girls camp (range cows continued to invade). And we watched with anticipation as Brother Hewlett went, unarmed, to chase away shot-gun carrying bandits. He was our Camp Hero.

Some of the girls went snake-hunting (ewww), and eventually adopted Petey, whom they then had a burial service for when he died & fried in the hot sun. (double ewww)

We had great meals, prepared by our own personal chef, Sister Wilson, and her “husband-slave”, Bishop Wilson. (Her words, not mine.) We ate and ate until we could eat no more. We had pudgy pies, s’mores, and excellent cobbler with Logan Creamery Ice Cream before bed at night. And – we didn’t have a bedtime.

We had a friendship circle, in which the girls expressed their love and admiration for each other, and lit candles to complete the circle.

Thanks to Brother Walker, we were able to pull up a decent trailer to haul the girl’s gear in. And Thanks to Brother Hawley we had room for the tents in the back of his truck. Oh and by the way Brother Hawley, sorry about the girls who like totally “chicked out” your truck. That must have been embarrassing for you to drive home with “We Heart You Panti” written on it. But be grateful…They wanted to write “Single Chicks on Board”.

We had a lot of fun. Those were the good times up at camp. But Girls’ Camp is also about so much more.

The theme for our Girls Camp this year was “Glory Road”. And our camp scripture was taken from, 1Nephi 16:3 “…give heed unto it, that ye might walk uprightly before God”. So everything we did, we centered around this thought of journeying down the right path; Making our journey a meaningful one, reaching the ultimate goal on our Road to Glory.

We held workshops with this same goal in mind, to teach the girls concepts and skills to help them on their road to glory. In these workshops we learned that we are an avenue of angels, and that our Heavenly Father has a divine purpose for each of us. We learned that if we are to remain steadfast and true on our journey, we need to make the best of choices, ultimately, choosing the way of the Lord. We learned that we need to make daily pit stops of prayer and scripture study if we are going to increase our faith and withstand the pitfalls of Satan. We learned that in order to have a testimony we need to build a trail of faith, one stone leading to the next. Or simply, that our testimony is built line upon line, precept upon precept, through our tests and our trials. We learned that the ultimate goal is obtaining a temple marriage. We learned that this wholesome and correct principle has three parts: the right time, the right person, and the right place. We learned that on our journey we will be faced with obstacles, or stumbling blocks, but that we can overcome those by taking upon us the attributes of our savior. It is with His help, through His atonement that we will be able to reach our goals.

These workshops were truly inspired and the leaders who taught them were prayerful about them. We could feel the presence of the spirit up at camp.

In addition to the workshops, we visited the Logan Temple. We heard faith-promoting stories of the early pioneers at that temple. We discussed with the girls again this concept of right time, right person, and right place. While we were on temple grounds, we were able to see three brides emerge with their eternal companions, and were witness to the happiness that radiated from them.

We took a “Journey of the Savior”, our faith walk. On this Journey, the girls were introduced to characters from the bible whom had personally known Christ. They heard from Mary, the mother of Christ; Mary, the sister of Martha; John the Baptist; The Woman at the Well’ and Peter, the apostle. These witnesses of Christ testified of him and of his goodness and his mercy. They testified of His truthfulness. Then, just as the sun was setting, their Journey took them to a portrayal of Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane. They heard the testimony of Elder Holland regarding this miraculous event. They watched the reenactment of Christ as he prayed, and asked Heavenly Father to remove this cup from Him. They watched as he bent over in pain and in suffering as He took upon the sins of the world, and as He took upon himself the anguish, the sadness, the hurt, and loss, and every other emotion that any one of us have ever felt. They came to know the Savior just a little bit better up at camp.

They then had the opportunity to bear witness themselves during our testimony meeting. We heard the wisdom and advice from the older girls and the sweet, yet growing testimonies of the younger girls. We heard our leaders testify of Christ and of His gospel and of their love for our Young Women.

In this month’s ward theme of “Good, Better, and Best”, these were the best times at camp. I am sure that each of the girls remembers these things up at camp. However, I am also sure that each of their experiences at camp were different and unique to them. That is the beauty of it all; we can each take away the parts that were meant for us to learn in that moment, meant for us to hear and for us to apply.

For me, planning girls camp was an awesome experience. I shared a little bit of this with the girls up at camp, but would like to share it with you as well.

I love these young women. I love serving them. When it came time for me to be released as the second counselor in Young Women, I knew that it was right. I knew that because of my situation at home, I needed to be released in order to be at home. But at the same time, I was sad. It was like a piece of my heart was broken. I mourned having to leave Young Women’s. I loved my calling. I prayed to Heavenly Father that He might be able to place me in a calling where I would feel needed and would be able to fill that void. I have a testimony that Heavenly Father not only hears our prayers, but that He truly does understand our needs and our desires. He truly does know each of us. When Brother Christensen extended the calling of the Young Women Camp director, I barely heard the word camp and said, “Yes!” before he could hardly finish the sentence. I was so excited. When I tell people outside the church – or even within the church, that I love this calling – they think I am crazy. Well, that’s beside the point, I suppose. But I love Girls Camp. Hands down – this is one of my favorite callings.

True, there is a lot of work and a lot of beforehand preparation that goes into it. But there is also a lot of prayer and a lot of pondering. I have strived to keep the girls’ needs front and center during the last six months while working on camp. I challenged the girls who weren’t sure about coming to pray and ask Heavenly Father if He didn’t think they should come to camp. One girl even told me she had been earning her money for another purpose, and wasn’t sure if she wanted to put it towards camp. I told her to pray about it, and that God will prepare a way where there is no way. All but 2 of our active young women attended camp.

I am grateful to the young women presidency to trust me and have enough faith in me to let me plan and carry out camp the way I had felt inspired to do so. I realize that my ways are different, and perhaps not in accordance with tradition in this ward. So, I am truly grateful that Sister Swain and her counselors let me run with my plans. I am sure there were times, when they were worried that “running with it” was becoming more like a “runaway train”. But, again I am grateful for their faith and confidence in me.

A few days before camp, I was not feeling very good. I kept thinking that it was just a 24 hour virus, and I would be ok before camp. Sunday, I felt much better, but still not 100%. I was sure that by morning, I would be fully recovered. However, that was not the case. In fact, I felt worse. In fact I was told that others who had this virus had taken almost a whole week to recover. I didn’t want the girls to know. I didn’t want them to worry and I didn’t want to detract from their experience. So, I put on a happy face and carried on throughout the day. But by the evening, I could not hide the fact that I was sick anymore. Everyone was aware. I knew that I could not continue on like this for a week. I had workshops to teach, a hike to lead, and what would girls’ camp be without Sister Panti’s crazy stories and games? I had to get better. I remember thinking, that if after dinner I still didn’t feel better, I would ask our priesthood to give me a blessing. Well, during dinner, it was Brother Hewlett who approached me and asked if I would like a blessing. He and Bishop layed their hands upon my head that night and blessed me that I would be able to perform my calling in the way I desired, and that I would be able to get much needed rest, and that by the morning I would be healed. Well, that night was a long night. I was sick all night long. And yet the hours that I did sleep, I slept sound. I believe I was purged of a week’s worth of virus in that one night. By morning, I felt like a new person. I have a testimony of the power of the priesthood. I know that I would not have had the great week that I had, if it were not for the blessings of the priesthood and the tender mercies of the Lord.

I joke around with the girls that I am a different person at camp, that my alter ego emerges, and that “what happens at girls camp stays at girls camp.” I even place some of them under oath and covenant to never reveal the crazy ramblings and idiosyncratic ways of Sister Panti up at camp. The girls humor me – they throw me a bone and let me think that I am funny and a little crazy. They play along with it. We wouldn’t have been able to have those dynamics if I were sick all week.

Being able to joke around with the girls was great, but so were the one-on-one moments. To hear some of their personal struggles and trials, to be able to have faith-promoting conversations - This is one of the greatest blessings of girls camp. I was talking to one of the girls about this very subject of “Good, Better, Best”. I shared with her a recent conversation I had with a friend of mine.

My friend and I were talking one night and he was telling me that he had made some choices that were not so great by the church’s standards and that he had a past. I told him that we all make some not-so-great choices sometimes, and that a lot of us have a past. He then looked at me and said, “I don’t think so. I don’t think that you have a past.” He said, “You see, I believe the gospel is true. But you—you not only believe it; you live it. And I can tell that you have always lived it.” This was quite a compliment to me. I confirmed to him that I do strive to live my life according to the teachings of Jesus Christ. He then said to me, “But I kind of like my life. In fact, I think I have a pretty good life. I know and understand the principles of the gospel and yet I am ok with some of the choices I make.” I in turn told him, “My 4th grade teacher once taught me a mnemonic to remember when to add –er or –est to the ending of words. Good, Better, Best. Never Let it Rest, Until Your Good is Better, and Your Better Best.” I told my friend that I have always remembered that because I think it applies to our lives as well. I said to him, “That is nice that you feel you have a good life. But for me, the reason I choose to live the gospel is because I want the best life. There is a quote on someone’s family room wall I saw that read, Families are Good. Eternal Families are Best. That is what I want and I make no pretenses about it.” Later on in the conversation he was telling me that he felt a little “lost”. I told him, “You can’t have it both ways. You can’t say that you are happy with wrong choices and you feel good about them one minute, and then in the next minute you feel lost. It doesn’t work like that. The atonement doesn’t work like that.”

I recounted this experience to this young woman because I wanted her to know that First, it is rewarding when we choose to live “Steadfast and Immovable” lives. Second, we should desire to want the Best – because we deserve the best. Heavenly Father wants nothing less for us. Third, we cannot have it both ways. Sitting on the fence only makes us good fence-sitters. And fourth, the Atonement is for everyone. It matters not how big or how small our sins are, for none of us would be anything without the Atoning Sacrifice of our Savior.

Being Steadfast and Immovable, always abounding in good works is the Mutual theme this year for our youth. I shared this story up at Girls Camp, and I would like to share with you as well. It was written by Elder Jeffrey R Holland and is entitled simply, “A Fable”.

Once upon a time there was a little Slobovian boy named Gorb who lived in a little boardinghouse with 10,000 Slobovians. Every morning all 10,001 of them were served the most nutritious breakfast cereal available anywhere—Captain Steadfast’s Forthright Whole Wheat Crunchies. Now federal agencies and senate hearings had proven not only that Captain Steadfast’s was the best breakfast food known to man but also that it was, spoonful for spoonful, the most economical cereal on the market. And it tasted great.
One morning just at breakfast time a stranger walked into the boardinghouse and casually tossed a new cereal onto the table that, he said, was groovy, outasight, and everyone was eating it. It was called Gurgle, Twaddle, and Sop. Some of the guys said they had heard it was pretty bad, but 10,000 hands nevertheless reached for the box and heaped their bowls high because, after all, it obviously was the thing to do. However, when the box came to Gorb he kindly said, “No, thank you,” and he poured himself a bowl of Forthright Whole Wheat Crunchies.
“Comment!”* roared a chorus of 10,000 Slobovian voices. * Comment is an expressive little Slobovian word which, translated roughly, means, “How dare you refuse Gurgle, Twaddle, and Sop when it is groovy, outasight, and everybody is eating it!”
“Well, it isn’t any great mystery,” replied Gorb. “I just read on the box here that Gurgle, Twaddle, and Sop has no vitamins, no proteins, none of the good stuff Captain Steadfast’s has, and it even admits to having some real junk in it. The price looks pretty expensive, and I’ve heard it can really taste gross. Besides—I like these Crunchies.”
At that point 10,000 fists hit Gorb on the jaw. “What gall,” mused Gorb as he shrugged his shoulders and went on eating his Captain Steadfast’s.
But even as Gorb was taking his lonely stand, some strange things began to happen around the table. Many of the 10,000 said they were sick; some said they were seeing strange things; a few said they couldn’t see anything at all. Several fell face first into their Gurgle, Twaddle, and Sop, and at least one just cried and cried. But those who were still able kept forcing down the G, T, & S because, after all, somebody had said it was groovy and outasight and everybody was eating it.
It wasn’t long before just one person remained sitting at the table; 10,000 others were screaming around the room or sobbing at their benches or just retching on the floor. The place was a bad scene that didn’t look either groovy or outasight, but at least everybody was doing it—except Gorb. He just quietly finished his Whole Wheat Crunchies and wondered why new always meant better to so many people.
Moral: 10,000 Slobovians can be wrong.

I have watched these Young Women up at camp this past week; living without the distractions of the outside world. Not worried about how they looked or if they acted a little silly. Not worried about whether or not certain boys were noticing them. Not worried about whether or not they fit into a certain group. They were there and they all fit in, they fit together. They were amazing. They are already “Steadfast and Immovable” in so many ways. They are already striving to live the “Best” life and they already want to have the “Best” type of family one day. They are already walking uprightly before God, on their Road to Glory. These young women are amazing.

I believe that perhaps I have needed them this week as much, if not more than they needed me. We had a great time at camp, and I know that I am a better person for going. I want you to know that I have a testimony of this gospel. I have a testimony that President Monson is a living prophet. I have a testimony that the Young Women’s program is inspired. I have a testimony of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and that He died and suffered for me that I might live again. I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Chit-Chat

When Secret Agent Guy & I were in Middle School we rode on the same yellow school bus. He and Hockey Boy used to sit right behind me and my friends. I could surely talk up a storm (surprise, surprise). Sometimes, they would get out their watch and time me to see how many words I could say per minute. Other times they would just count how many words I could say before taking a breath. I used to act like it annoyed me a bit, but in all actuality, I sort of liked it. I knew that I could talk really fast, and the fact that it drew their attention was sort of flattering. When I knew they were counting wpm, I would try to speak extra fast, just to impress them. Plus, I also think I secretly took pleasure in trying to annoy them with my garrulous chit-chat.

Do people really ever change? Some experts say yes, and yet others would argue that point. I am one that believes that both are true. People can change, and yet people really never change.

Our personalities seldom change. Our characteristics seldom change. These are innate traits that belong to us; they make us who we are. I believe that perhaps with life experience, we can uncover more of our personality than we may have initially thought existed. This is more of growth and development, versus actual change.

I do believe that the things we can change are our behaviors, attitudes and beliefs. It isn't easy, and it takes commitment, persistence and a strong desire to make these changes.

I remember one Saturday, as a child, I got in trouble for something and was feeling sorry for myself. I wanted some alone time, which was hard to come by with a household of 9. I remember hiding in the floor-to-ceiling drapes in the living room. That's a great place to feel sorry for oneself when you're 6 years old. Well, my dad was getting ready to run some typical Saturday errands. I asked if I could go with him. He sort of paused, knowing it would be quicker if he just went by himself. But my begging finally won him over. "Fine," he agreed. "You can come along on one condition." "Anything," I pleaded. "No talking," he instructed. I didn't take offense to his request in the least bit. I knew that I was a talker, and I knew that when Dad had a lot on his mind he didn't like to be bothered with incessant chatter. I agreed to be as quiet as possible.

I hopped into the passenger side of the little Toyota pick-up. I figured if I just stared out the window, I would be distracted enough that I wouldn't want to talk. Oh! Look at that cute dog, I wanted to say. But, nope! I covered my mouth with my hand in an effort to keep my promise. Then a big truck pulled up beside us. I wonder what they use those trucks for? No - don't ask. I must be very quiet. I remember the very concentrated effort I made in not talking. By the time we reached our destination, my Dad was so pleased that I didn't say a peep, he bought me a chocolate milk. Funny, how I remember that; it is one of my fondest memories, spending that day with him.

So, back to talking incessantly. I am still the same person. I still tend to ramble on a bit (again, no surprise). However, I think the biggest change, is that instead of just talking to hear myself talk, I try to make it worth listening to. I have also learned that just because I think it, doesn't mean I have to say it out loud. Sometimes, that is easier said than done.

In-Flight Dude asked me recently what some of my interests or hobbies were. I wasn't lying when I said, talking. I actually love to talk. I am a deep thinker and tend to over-analyze everything. So talking about it or writing about it, is all part of the process to figure out what it is I am actually thinking.

I like to be witty, clever, funny and entertaining when possible. Probably the fact that I am not as funny as I think I am makes me even funnier. I realize that most of the time I just come across as corny, which makes me different from most other women my age. In fact someone recently told me, "Corny works for you". I guess that was a compliment. I know myself well enough to realize that I talk too much most of the time. But what I find that is cool, is that there are people actually willing to listen and they like me for me; they even like my talking! I think that those who know me best realize it's a package deal: my mouth & my thoughts come with me.

So, Keenan was asked to speak in Church last Sunday. Here is how he started off: "A great instructor once said, 'When speaking in public, always engage your audience by starting off with a joke or a lie.' Well, I don't know any good jokes, so let me start off by saying how truly grateful I am to be here today." Of course, everyone laughed, and many of the parishioners made comments to me such as, "Wonder where he gets that from - ha ha" or "He sounds just like you". Was I a proud mother or what? Of course I was! I did confide to the bishop later, following his kudos of my kid, that Keenan takes after me in the sense that we actually enjoy public speaking. That's just sick & wrong, I know.

So, have I really changed all that much? I think people who know me now versus a few years ago, would say I definitely have more confidence and am more sure about who I am. That is the change that has come with personal life experience. But those who have known me a lifetime know me as the same Emma.

And just what about those boys in the back of the bus? Well, I must have made a lasting impression on one of them - enough for him to send me my favorite flowers yesterday.

Maybe "corny" works for me after all.